Two Cups of Punch
by evitamockingbird
Summary: Mr. Molesley goes outside to look at the stars after the Christmas Eve celebrations have ended. He discovers Miss Baxter in the yard and she isn't quite herself. What happens next? Baxley, just barely after the end of season 5. This is a birthday gift for the lovely Kissman.


**Happy birthday, Kissman! Just a little bit of Baxley fluff I cooked up for your special day.**

 **Thanks, chelsie fan, for your help with the ending.**

Joseph stepped out into the night in the wee hours of Christmas Day. The party had left him in a cheerful spirit, so it was not escape which he sought in the bracing December air, but a moment to enjoy the outdoors and be alone with the stars before taking himself off to bed for a calm, though all too brief, slumber. He had been rewarded for his sobriety at the party by having more work thrust upon him by Mr. Carson, though he had noticed that the butler was uncharacteristically distracted, so much that Joseph thought it might have gone unnoticed if he had left his post entirely. He had no reason to do so, however, so he had only come downstairs when all of the guests were gone. He had then immediately made his way to the back door and outside.

Joseph put his hands in his pockets and stared up at the sky for a minute or so, but then he suddenly heard a noise in the darkness of the yard. "Who's there?" he called out. He heard footsteps and a woman stepped unsteadily out of the shadows. "Miss Baxter!" He was surprised to see the lady's maid outside at this hour, but immediately noticed that she appeared unwell. "Are you quite all right, Miss Baxter?" he asked as he approached her.

"Yes, Mr. M-Molesley, I'm-" Suddenly she stumbled and would have fallen if Joseph had not caught her arm. Phyllis leaned on him, mortified that she should be found in such a state, although she would rather it be him that found her than just about anyone else.

Joseph caught a whiff of her breath and was dumbfounded. "Miss Baxter, could it be that you are… drunk?"

Phyllis slumped even more heavily against his side. "I'm afraid so, Mr. Molesley," she slurred. "The punch was so sweet I hardly noticed how strong it was."

"How many did you have?" he asked, still flabbergasted. She was nearly the last person he would ever have expected to find drunk in the yard in the middle of the night.

"J-just two," she lamented. "But I c-can't hold my drink very well."

"I can see that!" Joseph marveled. "What about her ladyship?"

"She gave me the night off, thank the Lord," Phyllis sighed.

"Let's get you inside."

When he pulled her arm through his and tried to lead her to the door, however, she resisted. "Can't let anyone… no one must… see me like this."

"You needn't worry, Miss Baxter. Everyone had gone up when I came out just now. I'm your only witness."

She sighed and started moving unsteadily toward the house with him, saying softly, "that's bad enough."

Joseph could see and hear her feelings of shame and he wanted to assure her that his opinion of her had not been damaged by finding her like this. "I wonder if you've noticed, Miss Baxter, that I never imbibe."

She blinked. "No, I hadn't."

"It's because I don't hold my drink well, either. I had a very humiliating incident a few years ago involving a spiked drink at a ball."

Her brow furrowed. "Oh?"

"I haven't thought about it in a while," he mused. "It was the last night I was valet to the heir, Mr. Crawley. He died the following afternoon. But the morning after the Ghillies Ball at Lord Flintshire's estate in Scotland, I was suffering the worst hangover of my life. I started to dress Mr. Crawley, but he could see how much the worse for wear I was and sent me back to bed. I was humiliated, but thankful all the same." He paused, remembering. "He was a good man, Mr. Crawley, and a kind one. I took a powder and slept for hours. Unfortunately that didn't erase the memories of my ridiculous behavior." They had reached the back door and Joseph opened it. "Lean on me, Miss Baxter. I won't let you fall."

Phyllis concentrated on her steps and managed to get inside and into the corridor safely. She leaned against the wall while Joseph closed the door. He took her arm again and they moved toward the servants' hall. Soft voices from behind the closed pantry door caught their attention. "Well, I _thought_ everyone had gone up," he murmured. "I wasn't quite correct, but hopefully we won't be disturbed."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Molesley. I feel such a fool," she fretted.

"No, you're not a fool," he told her as he pulled out a chair at the table. "Now sit here and I'll make you some tea." Phyllis started to protest, but before she could finish a sentence she sank down in the chair and yawned. Joseph went to the kitchen and came back in a few minutes with a tea tray set for two. He poured for both of them and they sat sipping in silence. After a few minutes, Phyllis set down her cup and rested her head against Joseph's shoulder. She was beginning to get sleepy.

"So thankful it was you…" she mumbled. "Mr. Molesley to my rescue." She smiled. "Mr. Molesley so kind and with the nice little chin." Joseph blushed. This was a night of surprises! Phyllis sat up again and looked at him. "Yes, it _is_ adorable." She reached up and touched his chin, then moved her face closer so she could study it more carefully. He tried not to betray his rapidly beating heart as he underwent her inspection. Suddenly, without warning, she moved forward and quickly kissed his chin. Joseph couldn't speak. Phyllis laid her head back against his shoulder and sighed contentedly. Within a few minutes she had fallen asleep.

Joseph wasn't sure what to do. His inclination was to stay where he was until she woke up, but he knew that Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes could emerge from the butler's pantry at any moment and they might not like to see him so cozy with Phyllis. It was only a few minutes before his fear came true. He could not make out what they were saying, but he could easily recognize the tones of Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes speaking softly as they slowly walked toward the stairs. Joseph couldn't bear to wake Phyllis, so he sat still, waiting to see what would happen next.

As soon as they were within view of the servants' hall, the butler and housekeeper abruptly stopped talking. Joseph thought for sure he was about to be taken to task by one or both of them. However, their footsteps continued until they stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

"Good night, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes said softly.

"Good night, Mrs. Hughes," he answered. "Sweet dreams."

Joseph hadn't realized that he was holding his breath until their footsteps faded completely and he relaxed, relieved at this near miss. Phyllis was still sleeping and now that they were truly alone, he let himself enjoy the sensation. Her hair smelled very faintly of something he could not identify and her even breathing soothed him. His eyelids began to droop and he was nearly asleep when he jerked awake just in time to avoid falling off his chair. This would not do. He was going to have to wake her.

"Miss Baxter," he whispered. "Miss Baxter!"

"Mmmm." She sighed, but did not awaken.

Joseph nudged her gently with his arm and she finally stirred, opening her eyes. "Miss Baxter, it's time to go to bed." She said nothing, but she sat up and allowed him to pull her from her chair. She leaned on his arm and he walked her to the bottom of the maids' staircase. "Now make sure you hold onto the railing as you go up," he cautioned her. "And if you feel dizzy walking down the corridor, just lean against the wall for a moment."

Her eyes met his and she nodded in understanding. Joseph watched her until she was out of sight, hoping that she would make it safely to her room. Then he put their tea things away and went to the housekeeper's sitting room. Mrs. Hughes had always been kind to him, but he knew she was not a woman to be crossed, so he normally wouldn't have ventured there uninvited. However, he didn't believe she would mind his being there for half a minute had she known his errand was innocent.

#####

The next morning Phyllis sat up in bed very slowly. She had not been nearly intoxicated enough to forget what had happened, but she wasn't sure how seriously her body would punish her for her drunkenness of the night before. She was glad to find that she was not ill, but she had a raging headache. Phyllis dressed herself and ruthlessly pinned her hair in as precise an order as possible before making her way downstairs for breakfast. She felt a little queasy, but the smells coming from the kitchen did not bring on any nausea, so she suspected the meal would do her good.

Phyllis winced when Mr. Carson came into the room and chairs noisily scraped the floor as the staff stood waiting for him to sit down. Mercifully, he sat down right away and breakfast began. Phyllis was grateful that Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were speaking in hushed tones. She always considered whatever they talked about to be their own business and tried to avoid accidental eavesdropping, but the butler's voice carried, so she was often privy to at least _his_ side of their conversations. Today, however, his voice was very quiet, which kept her head from pounding quite so strongly. She picked up her fork and something rustled on the table beneath it. Right there beside her plate was a headache powder. She looked up at Joseph and their eyes met. She gave a rueful smile and nodded her thanks for the powder. In return he nodded and gave her a slight smile before speaking to her.

"Happy Christmas, Miss Baxter."

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Molesley."

#####

That night Joseph sat outside, looking up at the stars as he had in the early hours of the morning. He was thinking of turning in when the door opened and Phyllis walked out into the yard. She found him easily, in spite of the darkness, and sat down beside him on the low bench. They were silent for a minute or so before Phyllis spoke.

"I want to thank you for helping me last night, Mr. Molesley," she said softly. "I appreciate your kindness."

"Oh, it was nothing," Joseph demurred.

"I disagree," Phyllis told him. "You helped me get inside and upstairs safely, but you were also sympathetic. You didn't _have_ to tell me your own story."

"Well, it was no trouble." He laughed. "At least I got a kiss out of the bargain."

Phyllis blushed and thanked heaven once again that Joseph was the one who had found her drunk. It could have been a lot worse if someone else had caught her in such a silly state.

Joseph chuckled quietly again.

"What's so funny?" she wanted to know.

He shook his head. "Oh, nothing."

Phyllis smiled. "It is _not_ nothing. Tell me what made you laugh just now."

He looked at her for a moment before giving in. "I was thinking that it was just my luck that the first time I was kissed by a pretty girl, she… well she wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time."

She nodded. "Well. I think we'll have to remedy that," she told him, her tone decidedly flirtatious.

Joseph just stared at her, stunned.

Phyllis couldn't help but laugh. "I'm thinking very clearly _now._ "

"You don't mean…?"

In answer to his question, she leaned in and quickly kissed his chin.

Joseph finally got over his shock and smiled at Phyllis. "Thank you, Miss Baxter."

"I was only teasing, you know. I _would_ like to give you a _real_ kiss."

"I should like that very much," he replied.

"It's been a long time since anyone called me a pretty girl." Phyllis leaned in and kissed his lips, not for more than a few seconds, but long enough for him to respond. They were both smiling when they drew apart.

She squeezed Joseph's hand. "Happy Christmas, Mr. Molesley."

He squeezed back. "Happy Christmas, Miss Baxter."

 _The end._

 **Please leave a review if you can spare a few moments. I hope you enjoyed this. And don't forget to wish Kissman a happy birthday! :-)**


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